Stay and Sear
by griffin black
Summary: Sam and Dean stay behind while John goes on a hunt. The boys can't sleep, so they get high together and get off. It's their first time. ' Dean's easy attitude shifted a little. "We don't have to if you don't wanna Sammy." '


John had been gone two weeks and would probably not come back till the end of the month. The thing he was hunting was stalking a pregnant woman and John had to wait for the baby to be born to have a shot at the monster. The boys were holed up in a cabin one state over from their dad's hunt. It belonged to a friend of a friend's and was much nicer than the Winchester's were used to. It was still tiny though, a living room, bedroom, kitchen, and bath. The bedroom was actually more of a loft with a big picture window spanning a third of one wall. The window was a liability, but the boys kept it salted. With no other furniture in the place expect one low to the ground queen bed, Sam and Dean had to share.

Daylight was short and it was quickly growing colder. The boys spent the short afternoons training together, running on the trails through the woods surrounding the cabin, or walking the couple of miles into town for food. John had left enough cash this time-so far. In the evenings, Dean had taken to drawing a rather grisly comic about the pregnant woman and her monster stalker. Each panel was little more than a dark scratching of black ball point pen, but he managed to carve out the important parts from the muddled marks: sharp teeth and retractable spines, a fetus incubating, getting ready to be hatched, cracked, and eaten. Out loud Sam said it was gross and not funny. But, while he spent his evenings reading a lore book Bobby had leant him on their last visit, he'd watch Dean draw from the corner of his eye and secretly feel an awkward proudness; Dean's hobbies usually included hunting, hunting, more hunting, chasing tail, and being utterly obnoxious to his baby bro. Too bad the last was his most favorite pastime of all, which no thing could distract him from for long.

"Saaam. Sam- I'm bored."

"Did the baby get eaten yet?"

"No but-"

"Dean. I'm reading."

"So what." Dean swiped the book and dodged Sam's outraged reflex. "Entertain me."

Sam jumped off the bed and ran at his brother, head butting his gut, steam rolling him onto the floor. The wood boards of the loft creaked alarmingly. Back on the floor, the breath knocked out of him, Dean let Sam straddle his middle in victory.

"I said I'm reading." Smiling, Sam snatched his book away and playfully pushed Dean's head.

"Uh huh." Dean moved suddenly, toppling Sam under him, and pressed his knees into Sam's arms to hold him still.

"Get the fuck off me man."

"Language." Dean exaggerated a frown.

"I'm sixteen asshole."

Dean acted out a gasp and let Sam tumble him off. They lie next to each other on the bare wood.

"Wish we had a fire. What kind of lousy cabin doesn't have a working fireplace?" Sam groused.

After their first few nights alone, the boys had tried to start one only to realize the chimney was plugged up. It had been bad.

"I'm fucking cold."

"Just because you're sixteen, doesn't mean you get to swear like a sailor."

Sam laughed and nudged over into his brother's space. "I'm still cold."

Dean threw an arm around him, letting Sam's head rest against his shoulder. These days, when they were standing together, it was getting sort of alarming how much taller than Dean Sam had grown. But like this, it still felt as if Sam was the little kid Dean had to take care of.

"Maybe we should pull out that extra blanket. I thought I saw one in the closet downstairs." Dean suggested.

"Maybe we should get up."

Dean sighed and let Sam stand and then pull him to his feet. Dean went and found the blanket while Sam tucked his book into his duffel and out of harm's way.

A little later they were both washed up and in bed, the extra blanket, an old down comforter that made them both sneeze, tucked around them. It would have been totally dark except for the big moon outside, shining right through the picture window. They pretended to sleep for a while, both hugging their edges of the bed, until Sam shoved his knee into Dean's back.

"Still cold."

"Still bored."

Dean turned to face his brother. Sam could just make out the way his mouth twisted in that special way that meant he was thinking.

"Spit it out, I'm way too awake."

Dean hesitated another moment before, "I have an idea."

Sam quirked an eyebrow as Dean flopped over him, his body heat immediately warming. Dean rustled through his duffel a moment and then came back up with a plastic sandwich bag. Still moving around, he wrapped the comforter around him and kicked at Sam until he got the idea and got up. Drawing the blanket around them both, Sam's back to his front, Dean shuffled them over to the picture window to sit on the wide step built in front of it. The moonlight was stronger here, shining brightly enough to show off a softer but still brilliant version of Dean's green eyes.

The comforter was huge, big enough to be squished into comfortable padding for the hard wood step and still cover them both snugly, including Sam's freakishly long legs. Dean leant against the frame and drew Sam back against him.

"Warmer?"

"Yeah. What do you have?"

Dean chuckled and bringing his arms around Sam so he could see, he showed him the bag.

Sam squinted. "Are those joints?"

Dean's easy attitude shifted a little. "We don't have to if you don't wanna Sammy."

"I-I've never done it before."

"I figured."

"How bad for you is it?"

"Once in a while won't kill ya I guess."

"Ok."

Dean waited a bit to make sure, then opened the bag and pulled one out along with his favorite silver zippo. Dean drew his hands away so he could light it, and Sam leaned forward a little, giving him room, and stared out of the glass into the grey night, the trees big and looming and so close. Sam made a snuffling noise when the smell hit him, not totally sure he liked it. But Dean's arm was settling around his waist, dragging him in close again. Sam tilted his head back against his shoulder and watched through half lidded eyes as his brother took a drag or two.

"Here."

Sam took it uncertainly and sort of stared at it. Dean laughed again, quietly. "Wanna try something?"

Dean took the joint back. "Breathe in when I breathe out, ok?"

He didn't wait for an answer, instead taking a hit and shifting only slightly so he was cradling the back of Sam's head, tilting his face up. He slipped his hand to the side a bit so he could thumb Sam's lips open and then pressed in, exhaling into Sam's mouth. Dean wasn't kissing him exactly, just barely touching their lips together. Sam breathed in, feeling both vulnerable in this position, leaning back, his throat exposed, and flooded with smoke and exhilaration. Dean pulled back slightly, letting Sam exhale.

"Another?"

"Sure." Sam suddenly didn't feel exposed anymore, open under his brother. Only warm and safe.

They lost count of how many times they shotgunned the weed. Until-"Why'd you stop?"

Sam could feel Dean smile against his cheek. "Ran out. Got another rolled, want it?"

"Uh huh."

They'd molded together, Sam slouched against Dean, head against his shoulder, Dean turned just enough to gain access to his mouth. Dean stuck a new joint in his mouth and let Sam light it for him. Exhaling the first hit through his nose, Dean immediately took another and pressed his lips to Sam's. They were getting careless, more than barely touching now. It was hot and close, Dean's lips drifting against Sam's jaw each time before finally drawing away to take another drag.

"Mm, this one's almost done." Dean said before leaning in.

Something surged up inside Sam and he licked right into Dean's mouth this time, the smoke escaping both of them. Stupid with it all, Dean let him, let his brother's warm tongue in, let him bite gently into the flesh of his lips and suck.

"Sammy-" Dean mumbled.

"Hm?"

Dean reached behind his head blindly and stubbed the joint out on the window frame before flicking it onto the floor, lips never leaving Sam's.

"Wanna go back to bed?"

Sam kissed Dean with a perfect smack, did it again, and again. "Mhmm."

Somehow they both managed to stumble back onto the bed, the blanket tangled around them. Dean ended up half on top of Sam, his thigh between his brother's. Sam went back to kissing him, all lazy licks and sucking, leaving little room to breathe.

"Sammy, I can feel you." Dean nudged his thigh upward a little, against Sam's erection.

Sam huffed out a laugh. "You too." He slid a hand to the lowest point of Dean's back and pulled him in tighter.

Dean moaned into Sam's mouth and rubbed against him, over and over. Despite the lazy, sleepy calm they'd settled into, everything was suddenly becoming urgent and clear. Rutting against each other, kissing opened mouthed and messy, they were gonna get off.

"Sam, give me your hand-" Dean adjusted so he could pull Sam's big hand right into his sweats. Keening, he whined, "Gonna come, gonna..."

Sam got with it enough to squeeze him and let Dean fuck his fist, the wet head of his dick settling heavy and warm in Sam's palm just as Dean lost it. Breath uneven, hardly come down, Dean's mouth slipping to the corner of Sam's, he said, "Get it out Sammy, please, please-"

Sam tugged his waistband under his balls. Despite the moonlight, it was too shadowy for Sam to make out Dean's expression when Sam gave it up from him. Dean licked his bottom lip unconsciously, the weed letting him acknowledge nothing but the burning of need for his brother's body. Dean scooted down, his hands finding Sam's waist under his hoodie and t-shirt. Sloppy and wet he licked across Sam's dick, getting slippery precome on his tongue. Sam couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think. No one had ever gone down on him before and now it was happening-with Dean. Sam felt desperate for more light, wanting to see his brother's ridiculous lips on him, getting pink and slick on his dick.

"How the hell are you so big?" Dean complained with a smile, pulling off briefly.

Sam couldn't answer, his chest too tight. Dean squeezed him at the base with one hand, the other digging into his hip, and sucked fast and messy, running his tongue over the ridge of the head repeatedly. Until-it was all over too quickly. Sam flung an arm over his face and bit into the crook of his elbow, groaning piteously, his hips jerking. Dean swallowed around his dick, unwilling or unable to get enough.

Sam shuddered and fisted the neck of Dean's shirt, hauling him back up. Pulling the blanket back around them, Dean lie with his head resting against Sam's shoulder, Sam's arm tucked around him. Wiped, they both fell asleep.


End file.
